


In the darkest grays

by looneytails (mixthealphabet)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Post-The Blood of Olympus, Relationship Study, Through the Years, Will-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixthealphabet/pseuds/looneytails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[The sun bursts, clouds break.]</p><p>Nico di Angelo loves in color. This is something that Will Solace has always known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the darkest grays

**Author's Note:**

> I've spent the last week writing this, so my wrist hurts terribly. Ugh, tendinitis. Anyway, I just really liked the idea.

Nico di Angelo loves in color.

This is something that Will Solace has always known, something he finds obvious, despite his siblings’ insistence on comparing the boy to the shadows that have almost swallowed him.

Nico is not black and white. He is not shades of gray. He is not death.

* * *

**i. Brown**

They haven’t even met, but Nico is already all he can focus.

The brown of his skin catches the light while he walks with Grover, white teeth flashing in the sun as he talks and talks, questioning every aspect of camp that his mind can grasp.

Will is practicing archery at the range. His fingers fumble with the arrow and he can actually see Michael suppress a groan at his inability. His brother has wide shoulders, firm hands and dark hair, and they are nothing alike, but this is the norm in Camp Half-Blood, so Will never really felt bad about it.

From where he’s shooting, Will sees Grover hand Nico off to the Stolls.

It’s not that he finds anything especially striking about the boy. Nico is short, probably around his age and he is responding pretty well to the fact that one of his parents is actually a divine entity from times past. Still, it’s not every day that Apollo himself descends from the sky with a van full of demigods.

So, yeah, Will is intrigued.

The Stolls seem to be up to no good, as always, because a deck of cards has appeared on their hands and Connor is unable to disguise the mischief in his grin. Travis talks, then frowns, then pouts.

Nico is much more interested in the group of girls that has just arrived than he is in the two boys.

Will knows next to nothing about the Hunters. He knows they travel with Artemis, who is kind of his aunt, but every god is somehow related, so he usually doesn’t pay _that_ much thought. He knows they are a mixture of demigods and mortals-turned-immortals. He knows they don’t really like boys.

Which is why the image of Nico crossing the range to them seems so strange.

By the time the dark-haired boy manages to sneak into the group and to grab hold of one of the girls, Will has dropped his bow to the floor and even Michael is staring.

Bianca di Angelo seems different from what his siblings described. Her hair is dark and braided, and he can see her face clearly. In the silvery glow of the Hunters, surrounded by permanently young girls, she looks nothing like her brother.

Yet, Nico takes her hand quietly, before anyone notices his presence, and there is something in that grip that states what they truly are to each other.

The other Hunters aren’t pleased with the intrusion, but Bianca smiles down at the boy and pulls him a bit closer. By the surprise that appears on his face, Will assumes they haven’t talked since her pledge. It’s oddly touching to see how the excitement on Nico’s face melts to something softer, between admiration and contentment, as Bianca puts her arm over his shoulders.

They talk, with Nico throwing his hand around and pointing at certain parts of camp. The girl chuckles at all the right moments, she nods and asks questions to encourage him. She does it with practiced ease and maybe a hint of tiredness, but the elation in her smile is true.

It’s nearly bronze, the way they love each other, like the undertone of their skins. It’s a connection that he doesn’t have – will never have – with Michael or Lee or Kayla or Austin. This sort of familiarity stems from being there since the beginning, from coming from the same place and going through the same things.

In spite of whatever changes may come, their love is sincere.

When one of the other girls – the disgruntled one, with the circlet – calls, Bianca grimaces and Nico frowns. She says something that seems to upset him further, but the girl still leans down to kiss his forehead.

The irritation in the boy’s expression doesn’t disappear, deepening when she leaves, but there is a kindness in the light brown of her freckles that is mimicked in the dark brown of Nico’s eyes.

Michael is back to explaining how to work the bow, and Will pretends to listen. He’s thinking of the little girl that his mother gave birth to just before he left home. He wonders if she could love him like blue eyes, or tanned skin, or yellow hair.

* * *

**ii. Blue**

The top of the Empire State has turned blue. For some reason, that seems to make the woman by his side relax.

As Will finishes wrapping the ankle of yet another wounded camper, he tries very hard not to think about Michael Yew. The others have finally found him and, in their sorrow, they’ve all turned to him for guidance. The mere notion is ridiculous.

He is just a healer. How is he supposed to be their Counsellor?

So, it’s with a little shame that he completely ignores the despair in his siblings’ faces and starts going around to check on the survivors.

Demigods are scattered everywhere. Some are celebrating, some are in hysterics and some are simply catatonic. There are more than Will had expected, but that does very little to quell his grief and his guilt.

He couldn’t shoot to save his life, but he’d thought – he’d hoped – that he would have mustered the strength to save others. Yet, here is the truth: he could never bring himself to kill.

This had never felt like a weakness, but it does now.

Sally Jackson hands him another suture kit and his hands are steady as he stitches the sword wound on Drew’s leg. The girl has finally calmed down after the situation with Silena, so they all pretend not to see the tear stains on her cheeks.

Will knows that he’s in shock, but the nothingness is easier than the desolation he felt earlier. Sally and her husband are a solid presence by his side. They seem to sense where they are needed most, and it’s probably this that keeps his misery at bay.

They are adults and – as absurd as it may seem to think so when they are standing on a battlefield – _these are kids_.

On moments like this, Will thinks he understands why there were so many that joined Kronos.

The immortals fight; their children suffer.

Sally continues to run her fingers through Drew’s hair, but her eyes shift upwards every few seconds, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of Percy through the clouds.

“I can’t believe I’m alive,” she mutters after a beat, when he is no longer busy with the stitches. “I can’t believe _he_ is alive.”

For reasons he refuses to acknowledge, the image of a boy in dark armor is the first to cross his mind. He’s being idiotic, because Will knows the woman is talking about her son, but he can’t stop himself.

Will remembers the terror he felt back in the battle of the Labyrinth, when he realized who Nico’s father really was. He hadn’t seen the boy in a long time, but he’d recognized him immediately, and it hadn’t taken more than an instant for Will to grasp that Nico was another child of the big three, a candidate for the prophecy.

He looks at Sally and tries to imagine how frightened she must have been.

“You were the one who saved Annabeth,” she continues, fixing him with eyes that are too caring. Will wants to talk about all the demigods that have died, the ones who are missing and the ones whose heartbeats he felt fade beneath his frantic touches. “Nico told us while we fought. Paul and I, we wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.”

Will doesn’t know how Nico found out about what he did for Annabeth, but the fact that the son of Hades had been talking about him sends a wave of warmth through his limbs. It feels like being a little less dead.

“Nico is very brave.”

The look Sally gives him reminds Will of his own mother, of how she would study his face when she was sure he was hiding something, but didn’t want to pressure him into telling her. It fills him with such nostalgia that he doesn’t even have to worry about what else the woman might see in his expression.

“I can’t say I understand him,” she sighs, “but I am happy that Nico seems to care about Percy. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think my son would be alive, either.”

The statement isn’t cryptic in itself, but her gaze falls to the floor, making her look almost pained, and it all just gives Will the impression that there is more to this story.

Still, he can’t say he disagrees.

Percy Jackson has a way to captivate people that Will has always envied. He doesn’t resent the guy or anything, but it’s easy to find himself wishing to be a better fighter and a better leader, especially when around the son of Poseidon.

He had never added Nico di Angelo to that equation, but it makes sense. Percy is one of the very few people he’s ever seen interact with Nico. If Will is correct in his assessment of Sally’s words and the boy’s involvement in today’s battle is bigger than it seems, then it’s not that strange to think that Nico too has been affected by Percy’s charms.

Will wishes it to be true, because he doesn’t want Nico to be alone.

The husband – Paul – approaches them and takes Sally’s hand just as they fall into silence. Will follows her eyes to the Empire State Building and they both stare at it thoughtfully.

The blue brings a smile to his lips, but it also makes his heart clench.

* * *

**iii. Green**

Will can’t really tell if the reason he is staring is because it’s Nico – _of course he’s staring, it’s Nico_ – or because those sweaters are so ridiculous that the second-hand embarrassment has permanently frozen him to his spot.

Well, that’s not _completely_ true.

The sweaters are kind of cool, in that manner that only Nico and Hazel can really pull off. They are funny in a dry sort of way and maybe a bit offensive, but also endearing in how they match.

[How eloquent of him, this description. It’s almost as if he is a _freaking son of Apollo_.]

Hazel Levesque has a lime green sweater with the words _¡Viva la Pluto!_ written across it in dark green and a drawing of the planet with a bright red Christmas hat right on the center of it. Nico dons a similar piece, but the color scheme is inverted and the words in his read _Fuck you_.

It’s an eyesore in the cutest way possible.

From where he sits with his siblings, Will fidgets. He itches to join the two at their table, if only because he wants to get there before Jason takes the vacant place next to Nico. The jealousy is unneeded and bothersome, but it’s there nonetheless.

Will understands that he has no right to feel like this; his relationship with the boy is friendly, at best. They have spent mornings working in the infirmary and afternoons by the beach, and Nico has even joined him in his studies of medicine, but there is no indication of deeper feelings.

Whatever flirtation might exist, it goes right over Nico’s head. That boy is as dense as they come.

Christmas’ Eve has caught them all by surprise. The past few months have included more work and reconstruction than ever. There are new shrines being built, cabins being expanded and several plans regarding diplomatic relations being developed. Will has attended more council meetings than he can count.

None of this has stopped the campers from enjoying the holiday.

As usual, the weather has grown cold with the approaching celebration, but it was really the first snow that alerted them all to the 25th. In a matter of hours, they had covered every possible surface with tinsel and mistletoe.

Now, their white Christmas is here and, for the first time in five years, Will has chosen not to spend it with his family. He prefers to keep his motives to himself.

“You could be a little less obvious,” Kayla admonishes as she steals a piece of his apple pie.

She is the only one he has told about his blossoming feelings for Nico. Will knows that Lou Ellen is going to kill them both once she finds out, because he’s her best friend and Kayla is her girlfriend, but it feels good to share a secret with his sister.

It feels like… consistency.

“I’m not doing anything!” He exclaims in a rush, suddenly thankful that his beanie covers his blushing ears.

Kayla tsks.

“You are ogling.”

Will huffs, indignant.

“I’m just looking!” he argues, motioning to the entirety of the dining pavilion. “I’m letting my eyes wander.”

The girl presses her lips together in amusement, then promptly bursts into laughter. Will glares, but still pushes her bowl aside to keep her from dipping an elbow into her porridge.

When the son of Apollo turns to Nico once again, the boy’s gaze is on him.

His eyes look lighter: less tired, happier. Will wants to chalk it up to the brightness of the snow or to the contrasting dark-green of his sweater, but he knows it’s the company. Hazel hasn’t been in Nico’s life for long, but their love is evident in the little things. It’s different from how it was with Bianca, but it is real.

They look nothing alike.

There are shadows that swim in the darkness of Nico’s irises and they speak of barely concealed loneliness. The boy gestures as he talks and he scowls more than he laughs. He almost always halts when he finds himself absently reaching towards people.

Hazel is kindness and warmth in the form of curly hair and golden eyes. She smiles with a challenge on her lips and a threat in the creases of her eyes. Her kisses aren’t hesitating, her touches aren’t tentative, her presence isn’t fading.

And they love each other like siblings, and they love each other like friends.

Their lives have been very similar and very different in several ways, but the power within them comes from the same source. Their strength and their blood derive from a time prior to Will’s, and they are tainted by the darkness, the riches and the pull of the Underworld.

Hazel links their arms, leaning over Nico while she speaks. Will assumes they are explaining their sweaters to Jason and Piper, who have sat down. The siblings smirk in complicity as the bespectacled boy shakes his head fondly.

Will thinks he understands how that must feel, because, when Kayla drops half her cake into his plate and winks, he sees green.

* * *

**iv. Golden**

It’s not rare to see Jason Grace around camp.

A year has passed since the war and things have finally calmed down. It makes sense that the boy is finally settling into a less hectic routine.

Piper, Nico and Leo are often with him, be it while he teaches the younger campers how to use a sword or during his rounds inspecting the cabins. They’ve grown to be good friends, even after the turmoil involving Leo’s death and his return.

Will quickly discovers that he too enjoys spending time with the group.

Leo Valdez is funny, if a bit too silly. He is reassuring in his awkwardness and much less reserved than the other two boys, never questioning Will’s presence. Leo grins like they are close, even though they haven’t talked since his welcoming tour. While that might be due to his reluctance in bringing up his time away from camp, it is also a comfort.

Piper McLean is kinder than anyone would expect. Since he first saw her arrive, she appears to have grown into her beauty, into herself. She isn’t intellectual like Annabeth, but she has the sort of emotional intelligence that reminds Will of Silena Beauregard. The memory is bittersweet, but also makes her an easy person to like.

These two have obviously been friends the longest; their gazes meet in inside jokes and, when one laughs, the other almost certainly follows. Piper is the first to forgive Leo, but also the only one who can’t look him in the eye whenever someone mentions his months away from camp. They are the perfect depiction of intimacy, but their trust is broken.

Jason and Nico, on the other hand, are brand new.

They have none of that familiarity, but there is an underlying reliance that Will both doesn’t comprehend and envies.

It’s in the way they turn to each other for confirmation during council meetings and it’s in their teasing. Nico grumbles and frowns, but he doesn’t shrink away from the older blond. Jason, normally strict from his time in New Rome, actually _cackles_ at Nico’s defiance of Mr. D.

They don’t quite fit, yet, but the whole thing is promising.

Will finds it difficult to control the jealousy that sometimes rips through his chest.

Although Nico is his friend and nothing more, the admiration he has always felt for the son of Hades has taken new forms, changing into deeper, more complicated feelings. Lou Ellen is merciless in her mocking and Kayla assures him that it will all be ok in the end, but even Clarisse seems to have caught on to it.

As Will watches Nico grab Jason’s glasses, he wonders how long “the end” will take.

They have just finished sparring and it looks like they are arguing, but one can never be sure when it comes to Nico. The guy talks in sneers and fights in whispers, and while Will believes he’s getting better at reading him, that might be mere wishful thinking.

In the sunlight, they are golden. From the shimmering sweat against Nico’s neck to the damp blond of Jason’s hair, then to the glint of the glasses as the former wipes at them with a handkerchief.

“Staring won’t do you much good, Will.”

The quip comes from directly behind him and the boy whirls around in surprise. Piper stands there with a smile on her face and Leo by her side.

Her hair is up in a braid, with a single feather dangling towards her shoulder. Will has always been sure of his sexuality, but he can still tell that, from an objective point of view, she is very pretty. It disconcerts him, making him think that Piper might be amping up the charmspeak.

“I’m not _staring_.”

His voice sounds an octave higher than it should, but it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Piper is empathic and Leo is a little shit. They wouldn’t have believed him either way.

“That is a Valdez level of pining,” the boy states. “I would know. I patented the look.”

Leo puts a hand on his shoulder, and Will rolls his eyes.

“I should warn you, I’m not paying the copyright.”

The two chuckle at his deadpan and it puts Will at ease. After two wars, any kind of joy feels contagious.

“I don’t know why you’re being difficult about it,” Piper chastises after a moment, “but I guess it’s good that you’re not rushing into things. Nico has gone through a lot. He needs time.”

Will agrees, but says nothing. From the look in her eyes, he can tell that Piper already knows how he feels about this.

Nico has trusted very few people with his past. The labyrinth, the Underworld, Tartarus… The son of Hades is still processing everything he’s been through and, to be honest, so are all of them. The pain from a year ago feels raw even on the best of days.

“It will be ok, Bones.” That is how Leo has taken to calling him, a simple throw back to their first conversation. “We have plenty of that now. We won over my actual dead body. That’s got to have bought us, like, ten years of peace.”

By his side, Piper purses her lips. She doesn’t freeze, however, and that in itself is a sign that things are already changing.

When blue eyes meet his from across the arena, Will smiles. Jason seems to say something, and Nico turns to look as well, before quickly snapping back. He makes a motion with his hand, as if he’s going to break the glasses in half.

The son of Jupiter shakes his head, frightened, but his friend’s face breaks into a grin.

Golden rays rain down on them and Will laughs too. He has always known this, but the reminder is nice: this is what friendship looks like.

* * *

**v. Purple**

Will Solace wonders if he should be offended, on behalf of Camp Half Blood, that most of Nico’s close friends are Roman.

They are two years into their friendship, and, apart from the appearance of some other demigods in quests, times have been peaceful. It all feels a bit like life before Percy Jackson, but not quite. The campers are scarred in ways not even Asclepius himself could have prevented; they’ve hurt and they’ve healed.

They are not the same people, but that’s okay.

Will remembers the first time he saw Nico, all those years ago. He was small, excitable and very open about his opinions. There are remnants of that boy in the warrior that he is today: how honest he gets when tired, the coiled energy in his gestures, and the physicality of his affection that only appears when Nico is too distracted to restrain himself. They show that change does not equal destruction.

Sitting by Nico’s side in a bright yellow toga, Will is thankful for new traditions.

They are in a Senate meeting, the first to be held in collaboration with the Greeks. It’s all very formal and serious, so Will does his best not to snicker when Dakota trips and brings three other centurions to the ground with him. Nico smirks, but he’s much better at keeping his laughter in check.

Frank and Reyna stand on a podium, accompanied by Annabeth and Percy, who have been chosen as Camp Half Blood’s representatives, if only for this meeting. One would imagine them to look ridiculous in Roman attire, but the four radiate authority.

The pride in Nico’s smile illuminates his expression.

“Our final order of business involves the future interactions we are to have with the Greeks,” Reyna declares with severity. Nevertheless, her eyes shine strangely, more amused than somber. It’s a good look on her. “You’ve all been informed of the exchanges we have planned. I presume the necessity of a permanent ambassador has been noticed.”

She nudges Frank, whose face contorts into a quick grimace, before blanking.

“After careful deliberation, it was decided that only two candidates possessed the required features, the experience and the respect of both camps.” His lips tug upwards. “Hazel Levesque, ambassador of the Romans, and… Hm…”

When he pauses, lowering his eyes to the ground, Annabeth steps in. She puts a hand on Frank’s shoulder and moves forward. Her gaze comes to rest on Nico.

“Nico di Angelo, ambassador of Hades. Now, ambassador of the Greeks.” She gestures for him to approach the stage.

Will thinks that, if his sister weren’t here, he would remain seated, probably too shocked to move. As it is, Hazel pulls Nico up with a grin and forces him towards the others.

All around them, people clap, but the dark-haired boy is looking at him. Will beams back, trying to be comforting. He feels almost giddy with the delight that settles on his chest, because this is irrefutable proof: there is a place for Nico here.

Will wants to wolf-whistle, but Percy does it in his stead.

For a moment, their joy is chaos.

Then, Julia – the little girl who helps Terminus – shows up with two parcels and hands them to the Roman praetors. Frank immediately gives his to Hazel, blushing, and the two trade quiet words. Reyna, however, opens the wrapping of hers, revealing a purple toga.

When she turns to Nico, the senate falls silent.

“I gave you that attire because I wanted something that distinguished you from our ranks. As you know, children of Pluto are rare.” Reyna grabs Nico’s hands, depositing them over the toga. “Now, I give you the colors of New Rome. I understand your uncertainty over our truce and I share it, but you, Nico,” she smiles, “you’ll always be welcome here.”

Suddenly, it feels like he’s watching a campfire from two years ago, but in reverse. Nico – taller and more confident – wraps Reyna in his arms, while the crowd claps again.

It doesn’t take long for Hazel to be there as well, tugging Frank with her. Percy and Annabeth don’t join the hug, but the look on their eyes is warmer than it has been in years.

Although Will had never thought acceptance to come in color, he supposes purple will do.

* * *

**vi. Red**

They’ve known each other since Nico was ten years old. They are now around seventeen, have been friends for years, but they are still dancing around each other.

Will sometimes still feels like that kid in the archery range, watching from afar as the boy loves everyone but him. It’s a spiteful thought, born from his insecurity, so he tucks it into the creases of his mind for it to suffocate there.

His crush-turned-best-friend is something that he barely discusses anymore, even with Kayla. The novelty of it has worn off to the constancy of simple truths. Leo makes an implication, Lou rolls her eyes at Will’s longing and they all quiet down when Nico is around.

His friends respect his decision not to say anything, even if they don’t agree with him.

Will knows that Nico feels something too, but he wants the boy to establish their pace. After Bianca and Minos and Percy, relationships remain a territory to be treaded carefully; certain traumas are difficult to move past.

The son of Apollo doesn’t mind, or at least he tries not to.

Will has ghosts to face as well. After so much time being second best to his siblings, then to Percy Jackson and Jason Grace, the blond finally feels like accepting who he is. His father doesn’t define him; he’s not simply a healer and he’s not just another faceless demigod who didn’t grow up to be a hero. Divinity flows in each of their veins, but that’s not all they are.

Nico is there with him through all of this, and Will thinks he might love him for it.

They become friends, they gain intimacy, they build trust.

For the sake of his mental health, Will goes on a few dates. He never lets things become serious, though. His behavior resembles self-sabotage, but it’s better than breaking someone else’s heart.

Nico gets involved with a son of Aphrodite who helps him understand sexuality. It all hurts like pulled teeth, a dull throb in the wake of emptiness. This is when Will decides to get over him and when he finds out that he can’t.

Mitchell doesn’t last long, a fact that Austin instantly associates with Will. Nico doesn’t say much about the break up, but his cheeks now turn red every time they meet.

When they train, he gets distracted and hits the blond boy upside the head, before spluttering apologies. The flush that takes his complexion does not match the lightness of the situation, especially when it happens again and again.

Nico’s disconcertion lands Will in the infirmary a month later, but it’s progress.

“This progress…” Kayla tightens the bandage around his shoulder, “is gonna kill you.”

Will smiles, unable to disguise his amusement, and his sister snorts. It’s not the first time they have had this talk.

As soon as the girl has left to clean the blood from her hands, Nico walks into the room. The color in his cheeks is almost lost to the dark tan he sports, but the son of Apollo has experience on studying his features.

Its presence creates a knot in Will’s stomach that twists with every step Nico takes closer to him.

“I guess this is it,” the blond jokes. “The wars didn’t kill me, but our training probably will.”

The other shakes his head, trying to hide the smile that tugs at his lips. This habit of Nico is unique to their relationship, and Will prides himself of this fact.

“Your idea of a fighting plan is to run around,” the dark-haired boy remarks drily. “You’ll probably die doing something equally ridiculous.”

Will beams in response, watching the awe-struck look that crosses Nico’s expression before it’s replaced by a frown.

“There’s a reason I came, actually.” He pauses. “And I promised Hazel that I wouldn’t be a, hm, a chicken about it. Jason has been torturing me with that for weeks.” He exhales forcefully, and his blush intensifies under Will’s wide-eyed gaze. “I have feelings for you and I think you know that. So, do _something_ about it.”

Will can’t help himself, he laughs.

Nico is obviously unimpressed and a bit offended. He blinks, then scowls, and he’s half-way towards the door when Will reaches him, grabbing his hand.

“I’ve been flirting with you for three years, Death Boy.” He leans closer, too thrilled to be embarrassed by his own forwardness. “ _You_ do something about it.”

It’s the wrong thing to say – but also the _exactly right_ thing to say – because the smirk on Nico’s lips is ferocious. Not a second later, those lips are pressed against his, coaxing his mouth open and into movement.

Will moans at the feeling of hands on his lower back and it’s his turn to blush bright red.


End file.
